II

Mrs. Couch was delighted and Mr. Jeffers said you could have knocked him down with a feather. Mrs. Couch could never be knocked down by such flimsy objects while she had her cards and teacups to warn her. This she had seen in the teacups.

“A new mistress to the house,” she had said. “I saw it clear as daylight.”

“Clear as mud,” scoffed Mr. Jeffers.

There was a feud between them because of his “goings on” with young females.

“There it was—one little grout beside a big one. I said to myself ‘That’s a woman beside the master’ and there in the corner was the marriage sign.”

She was delighted nevertheless. They all were.

“Though who’d have thought it of him,” said Amy.

“Men,” added Jess, who was quite knowledgeable on that subject, “you never can tell with them.”

“My word,” said Mrs. Couch. “We do see life with you about, young Jane. I suppose we’ve got to call you Madam now. The mistress, eh?”

“I daresay the master would appreciate that,” I replied.

Mrs. Couch nodded. Later she said: “In front of the servants just to make it right and proper. But to me you’ll always be young Jane.”

She was pleased. “It’ll be like a proper house. The Hall is very pleased. And a little baby too. It’s a good thing you got that before. Poor Mr. Sylvester Milner could never accommodate… if you know what I mean. But with a little one on the way I reckon the wedding will be prompt. It has to be when there’s a nipper on the way.”

And so I prepared for my convenient wedding.

Sometimes I was almost on the point of calling it all off.

What was I doing? It was a year since I had joyously gone to Joliffe as his bride. I had no doubts then, no qualms.

And what had I known of Joliffe? What did I know of Sylvester?

I tried to think of him dispassionately. I liked him; I could say I was fond of him. He had interested me from the moment he had discovered me in the Treasure Room. I was never bored in his company; we had this great interest between us. I was stimulated to learn as I was sure he was to teach me. It can be a success, this marriage, I thought.

He had implied very clearly that ours would be no intimate relationship. We should have our own rooms; there would be little difference in the life I was leading now and what would follow. I should look after the house and help with his business as I did at this time; the difference would be that I should be his wife and my child would be born in comfort, to security. I should not have to scheme for mine as my mother had for hers.

I could almost hear her voice saying: “We arranged this for you, Janey, seeing how things went. Your father and I arranged it.”


* * *

The marriage ceremony would be in the little church a quarter of a mile from the house. It would naturally be a quiet wedding.

A week before it was to take place I was going through the post with Sylvester as I did every morning. He would read through his letters and if they were business ones he would pass them to me. In due course I would be traveling to sales as he used to, but I was not quite knowledgeable enough for that just yet. Later I should be able to buy and sell, but my apprenticeship was not yet completely served.

Sylvester suddenly paused and looked up at me.

“Here is a letter from my nephew. He proposes to come to the wedding.”

“Joliffe,” I began, my heart leaping uncomfortably.

“No, no. This is Adam, my brother Redmond’s son. He is home in England after two years in Hong Kong.”

“So he is coming here.”

“I did not expect any of my family to come,” he said.


* * *

My heart leaped, turned over and seemed to stop for a second when I saw Adam. The reason was of course that he was standing with his back to me in the sitting room, holding a figure in his hands, and from the back he looked just like Joliffe.

When he turned the resemblance was scarcely perceptible. This man was an inch or so shorter than Joliffe, but still tall; his broader shoulders made him look less tall still. His features were like Joliffe’s but his eyes were different; where Joliffe’s were blue, this man’s were grey, a rather cold color as the sea is on a dull day. He lacked those black lashes which were such a startling feature in Joliffe’s face. And of course he lacked the charm.

The illusion did not last long. It was just a faint family resemblance.

Sylvester was seated in his chair.

He said, “Jane, this is my nephew, Adam Milner. Adam, the lady who is to be my wife.”

He bowed rather stiffly. Every minute he was growing less like Joliffe.

“It is fortunate that I shall be in England at the time of the wedding,” he said.

He was studying me intently and I thought I detected a faint hostility in his glance.

“Come and sit down, Jane,” said Sylvester. “I have asked Ling Fu to bring us tea. What did you think of the figurine, Adam?”

“Very pleasant,” he answered.

Sylvester raised his eyebrows and grimaced at me. “That is all he can say of our beautiful piece, Jane. It’s genuine Sung.”

“I doubt that,” said Adam. “It’s later than that.”

“I could swear it’s Sung,” said Sylvester. “Jane, take a look at it.”

As I took the figure from Adam I felt the eyes of this man on me and they were cynical. I said: “I’m afraid I’m not sufficiently competent to make a judgment.”

“Jane is very cautious,” said Sylvester, “and overmodest I think. She has learned a good deal since she came here.”

“You came here with your mother, did you not, when she started to keep house?” said Adam.

“Yes,” I answered.

“And now you are becoming a connoisseur.”

His voice was pleasant enough but his eyes mocked me. I fancied he was implying that he thought me an adventuress. I felt angry towards him. I disliked him not for his attitude but for being enough like Joliffe as to remind me of him and to bring back poignant memories of the days when I was innocent enough to believe I would live happily ever after.

“I am certainly not a connoisseur. Sylvester”—I said his name with difficulty and always with a faint touch of embarrassment—“has been kind enough to teach me all I know.”

“I’ve no doubt that you have learned a great deal,” he said and there was insinuation behind his words. I was reading his mind. He thought that I and my mother were adventuresses. We had come here in the first place, made a cosy spot for ourselves, then I had married Joliffe and come to grief so I had returned and brought Sylvester into my net.

I began to dislike this Adam.

Ling Fu brought in the tea. I presided over the tray and was silent while the men talked.

Adam seemed to direct the conversation into channels which could exclude me.

He wanted to hear all about the accident. He “had been very anxious,” he said.

“I’m flattered,” replied Sylvester.

“Oh these rivalries, they are friendly enough,” said Adam Milner. “The family feeling is apart from business.”

I sat listening to him, and sensing his hostility to me, I believed he had come to try to dissuade his uncle from marrying.

Later I asked Sylvester if this was his intention.

Sylvester laughed. “He’s astonished at the thought of my marrying,” he admitted. “Clearly Adam was of the opinion that I’m in my dotage. It’s amusing that he should suddenly become so interested. However I assured him that I’m perfectly sane and that I believe my marriage to be one of the wisest steps I ever took.”

“He seems rather a dour young man.”

“He’s serious minded and I believe already has a name in the trade for a keen eye. His knowledge of the Second Great Chinese Empire is said to be greatly respected. He’s an expert on the T’ang and Sung Dynasties. Redmond used to be very proud of him. He’s really dedicated and determined to succeed, I think. He was always so much more serious than er…”

“Than Joliffe,” I said quickly. “He seems to resent me.”

Sylvester smiled. “Not you personally. I have an idea that Adam might now like me to join up with him. Clever as he is he may find the going a little difficult on his own. I have an idea that he thought that because of my accident I should be glad to have him… on his terms. But I have you to help me and I have always wanted to keep the reins firmly in my own hands. Neither of my nephews is of the kind who likes to take a back seat. I shall not amalgamate. And now that I have you to help me there is absolutely no reason from my point of view why I should. That is what he resents.”

“It seems rather an unpleasant outlook.”

“It’s business,” answered Sylvester. “As a matter of fact Adam is a very worthy young man. Serious minded, alert, knowledgeable. But since his father and I parted company I prefer to be on my own.”

“I suppose he came to see what I was like.”

“He must have found you interesting. I’m sure he did. I could tell by his manner.”

“I don’t think he altogether liked what he found.” Sylvester laughed.


* * *

I was married to Sylvester on a typical April day—the sun shone one moment and there was a downpour the next. The church was decorated with daffodils and narcissi and little bunches of violets. There was a freshness in the air.

Sylvester walked on his crutch to the altar. It must have seemed a very unconventional wedding. I was in a blue gown cut full to hide my pregnancy and a hat of the same blue with a curling ostrich feather.

Squire Merrit, who regarded himself in some measure as responsible for Sylvester’s accident and was constantly displaying a desire to make amends, gave me away. I had a strange feeling in that church as the question was asked if anyone knew of any just cause or impediment why the ceremony should not be performed; I held my breath almost expecting a voice from the church to say: “Yes, you are my wife. You know you are… and always will be.”

Joliffe, I thought in panic. Oh, where are you?

But there was no Joliffe to interrupt the ceremony.

In the pews sat the servants, headed by Mrs. Couch who wiped her eyes and declared later that it had been beautiful and she felt as though the bride was her very own daughter. “It’s so dramatic,” she had said, “when you think of Mr. Joliffe and it’s his baby and Mr. Sylvester coming in and marrying you. It’s a true romance it is really.”

Adam Milner was there, aloof, cold, and disapproving. And so I became Mrs. Sylvester Milner.


* * *

After my marriage, life went on just as it had before and in a few weeks I ceased to marvel at it.

The very ceremony of marriage had somehow created a new intimacy between us. I began to think of him as Sylvester and that made it easier for me to call him by that name.

As for him he changed a little. He seemed contented, reconciled to his disability.

I was now looking forward to the birth of my child and that tended to make me forget all else. Sylvester was very concerned about my health; I had the impression that he wanted the child almost as much as I did. I knew his philosophy of life was that of the Chinese. One accepted what the fates offered and was thankful for it and it was one’s own fault if one did not distil some goodness from it.

I must be aware of his kindness and the comfort that was given me in that house.

Often I thought of Joliffe, but the child was beginning to take up my entire thoughts. I was now very much aware of its physical existence and I was content to lie and think of it while I longed for the day of its birth. Mrs. Couch was delighted.

“Children in the house. It’s what I’ve always wanted. No house is right without ’em, little minxes… into this and into that. But they make a home.”

Amy who had given birth to a daughter assumed great importance. She regarded herself as an oracle. She greatly enjoyed advising me as to what I should and should not do.

Jess said it made her feel like settling down.

And there was Sylvester. He behaved as though the child were his and there was no doubt that when my baby was born that was how it would be regarded. He had plans for it and he became much more human than he ever had been when he talked of it.